


Droplets of Stardew

by BurningSilence



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Depression, F/F, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Non-Linear Narrative, Recreational Drug Use, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-16 17:00:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21039641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurningSilence/pseuds/BurningSilence
Summary: A collection of one-shots that all take place in the same storyline, but will probably be out of order for the most part. Overall, a little bit of depression, a little bit of love, and a little bit of hope.





	1. The One Where They Stand on the Cliffs

**Author's Note:**

> My little contribution to the Stardew Valley fandom. We're gonna jump right into the angst with Shane's Six Heart cutscene

She stared up at the wooden slats of her ceiling. 

The rain still hammered against her roof and poured down in sheets along her window panes. She glanced toward the door leading to the main room, the glow of the burning coals in the hearth still emanating from it, with eerie shadows dancing along the walls and floor. She pulled her quilt around her even tighter, the cold soaking in despite her best efforts. 

She let out a long sigh and heaved herself up, the covers enveloping her body, and she swung her legs over the side of the bed, her feet making contact with the cold floor. 

There were times it felt as if Erika had only been in Stardew for a few days, and others for over a decade, though in truth she’d only moved to the valley three years prior after having come back from her sabbatical from Joja Corporation and, unable to settle back in to her role, she’d had a-- _ very minor _ \--meltdown on the phone with a customer who swore he found a finger in his soda and had been called into her supervisor’s office, whereupon a screaming match had occurred with her ending it with a definitive, “I’m not getting fucking fired over this because I quit, goddamn it” and stomped out, stopping only to throw her few possessions from her desk into a box, and cursed until she walked back into her flat and slammed the door, rattling the picture frames lining her small living room. Her gaze fell on the larger family portrait in the middle of various other Big Events--her graduation from university; her, in a bridesmaid’s dress, with her best friend of nearly twenty years; her niece’s first birthday, frosting smudged all over the baby’s face; and the occasional snapshot from a picture booth with friends and her sister stuffed into the frames alongside the professional photographs--and felt a twinge looking at her grandparents’ faces. Her grandfather’s death was still raw in her mind, the wound from his passing never completely closing up, even then--a whole year after-the-fact. 

Erika had walked over to her little desk and opened the drawer, her grandfather’s note sitting front-and-center, and she ripped it open and made her decision. 

And here she was, three years later. In the middle of nowhere, freezing even though they were well into summer. Stardew seemed prone to getting freak thunderstorms that would disappear almost as soon as they formed. She would need to check the crops to make sure the wind hadn’t uprooted any of them, like in her near-disastrous first year.

In fact, if it hadn’t been for Marnie, she’d likely have had to move back in with her parents and, worse still, beg for her job back. Fortunately, on top of giving Erika Ser Pounce-a-Lot--who lay purring at the foot of the bed, oblivious to the chill around him--she’d helped to teach her how to cultivate her grandfather’s land and which crops were better suited per season and which ones would benefit more from growing near each other, and fed her on occasion during that first year of her residence, where she’d met her niece Jas and her surly nephew--though she wasn’t entirely sure what he was to Marnie--Shane. Both Jas and Marnie were a delight, and for the past two years Erika found herself baking cakes for Jas’ birthday, insisting it was no trouble at all when Marnie told her she didn’t need to go through the effort.

Shane was...less of a delight. Better lately, true, after they had shared a couple beers together and she’d poured ice-cold water over his head when Marnie had asked her if she could try to wake him after what she assumed had been a long night of binge-drinking. Why Marnie had wanted Erika to interfere at all was still beyond her, but she had, and would do it again even though her only thanks from Shane had been “I’m fine, now get the fuck out of my room.”

Rude. 

Whatever. He’d been alright anyway, if angry, so she supposed it worked out though recently things were strained--more so than usual--when they’d run into each other at the saloon. She supposed if she were to be fair, she was doing the running into, since Shane only lived at one of three places: Marnie’s, JojaMart--where Erika hated shopping purely from principle and a heaping dose of spite--and the Stardrop Saloon.

So maybe, she supposed, she  _ had  _ been checking on him. For Jas. And Marnie. 

He still drank through most of the evening, until he saw her and he’d storm out, throwing down an indeterminate amount of cash on the bar, barely even sparing her a glance. 

Whatever.

She figured what little progress she’d made with the town grouch flew right out the window, which stung a bit. She genuinely liked Shane, when he wasn’t being an ass at least. Since sharing those couple drinks, he’d been less rude. Maybe not exactly what she would call  _ friendly _ , by any stretch of the word, but...amiable. And he completely transformed when it came to Marnie’s chickens. Erika was almost amazed with how much care he exhibited for them and how unguarded he became. It was a nice change, she decided. 

When she had first met him, he’d looked lonely--like her--and she liked his eyes and went over to introduce herself, only to be told that he didn’t know her and asked why she was even talking to him. And, true, maybe her feelings had been hurt at the time, especially since most people in town had been rather sweet, and speaking to--being spoken  _ at  _ by--Shane was a shock of cold water. 

He also didn’t seem pleased when Marnie had invited her over for dinner, and Marnie had assured her to not worry, “that’s just the way Shane is,” which did serve to make Erika feel marginally better. Over the past couple of years, however, she did discover Shane had a fondness for anything spicy and went out of her way to put a few peppers aside--and maybe even growing them despite not considering it before--for him that she’d give to Marnie for him. She’d been brave enough only now to give the peppers to him herself, but since that one morning she hadn’t felt comfortable with doing so, given the cold shoulder he gifted her with. 

She couldn’t sleep, she decided, hunched over the side of her bed and listening to the rain lighten up, the sound of the storm dissipating into a light drizzle. She stood and threw on her clothing, not entirely convinced that the flannel shirt would be enough to keep her warm but also too lazy to care about grabbing her coat before heading out. 

Mist clung to her hair as she walked down the damp cobblestone, frowning as she noticed the weeds growing in the dim light that lined pathway. She would need to clear those soon--a job she never looked forward to. 

She made enough money, now, she should hire a farmhand or something. It had taken her some time, but she’d finally admitted to herself that even though she might have been a “strong, independent young woman” living on her own in Zuzu City, that didn’t appear to translate into physical strength here in Stardew Valley. She could manage fine on her own, but…

Erika kind of hated that part. Hated the near-unending solitude. She could barely remember the last time she’d seen her family or friends, and it was too out of the way to expect them to be able to make the trip this far away from the city. 

She passed Marnie’s ranch, the darkened windows and wet bales of hay, and a small smile slid across her lips, and she wrapped her button-up tighter around her waist. The trickle of the river current echoed in the forest, and she took in a deep breath, damp pine needles and earth perfuming the night air as droplets slipped off of oak and maple leaves and splashed into the puddles that dotted the landscape. Erika had enjoyed the rain since her early childhood, loved the way it draped the world in a grey cloak of magic, granting a certain mystical quality to the city that couldn’t be found during warmer weather. Here in the country, the rain still held this quality for her, and there were moments she felt as though she lived in a different plane of existence altogether. 

But that could just be the nostalgia speaking. 

Erika continued her walk, footsteps muffled in the mud, and she knew she’d need to wash her boots off or just leave them on the front step otherwise she’d track filth all over the floors she just mopped the day before, until she reached the first wooden bridge over the river--higher than normal due to the earlier deluge and sloshing over the planks--and felt the rain fall with more force before stopping all together. She sighed and looked behind her, before walking over the second bridge and into the coppice at the base of a series of cliffs. 

If her sense of direction was correct--a rarity--the sewer grate lay a few more feet in front of her--she attributed the lack of smell to the storm--and she’d need to be extra careful she didn’t misstep and take a tumble down the cliff. She glanced up at the sky and noted that, fortunately, the clouds had parted enough to let moonlight filter through, washing the woods in a muted grey. Just enough light to make out depth and to see the ocean dotted with flecks of white. 

She should have brought a lantern or flashlight along with her. She pinched the bridge of her nose and huffed. She couldn’t very well go back now, and she could see enough now that the storm had lifted to some degree that she was fairly certain she wouldn’t fall to her death. 

As Erika grew closer to the edge, she made out a dark shape and several small silver objects around the figure. When her eyes adjusted, she saw some slight movement from the shadow.

It was a man. 

In Zuzu City, it wasn’t uncommon to come across someone passed out blind-drunk in an alleyway.

Or on a park bench.

Or on the front steps of her apartment complex.

It wasn’t exactly a part of everyday life in Stardew, though, and the figure before her could only be one person. 

Erika walked over to the prone form and nudged it with the toe of her boot.

“Shane,” she sighed. “You’ll catch your actual death out here. Why are you so far out right now? In the middle of the night? In the middle of a storm?” she asked, and then crossed her arms as she looked around. “Surrounded by beer cans.”

She heard him groan when she nudged him again and he muttered, “Of course it’s you. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Hey,” she said, “I was out here minding my own business, just trying to go on a late night walk.” She then shoved her hands into her pockets and drew her foot away from him. “Are--are you okay?” The scent of alcohol wafted from him; even with the rain, it still permeated the air around him. “How long have you been out here?” she asked, crouching down, soaking the knees of her overalls, and she pressed her hand against his cheek. 

When he didn’t answer, she gave it a light tap before shaking his shoulder. “Shane,” she tried again, “you need to get up. You can’t stay out here all night.”

“I’ve been coming out here more and more lately,” she heard him say through his slurred speech. “Just looking down,” he continued, “thinking about what it’d be like if I just...ended it all. Just stepped off that cliff.”

She felt something twist in her gut and a burning coal slither down her throat and settle in her stomach, scorching a hole inside her. “Don’t talk like that,” she muttered, resting her hand on his shoulder. “You just need to sleep this off--it’ll be better in the morning.”

“Erika,” he started, the sound of her name coming from his mouth jolting her, “all I do is work, sleep, and drink. I can’t stand feeling like this. T-this feeling of self-hatred. I need something to end it. But every time I think I work the nerve up to do it, I back down. I’m too small and too stupid to take control of my own life, even this way.”

“Hush,” she whispered. “Don’t say things like that,” she told him, blinking to refocus her vision. She began to rub his shoulder through the drenched hoodie he wore. “You’ll feel better tomorrow, I promise. Please just help me get you home, okay? I’ll even tuck you into bed and everything. Just help me get you back to Marnie’s. Please?”

“Why?” he groaned. “Why should I even bother going on? It’d be so easy right now. Tell me why I shouldn’t just…roll right off this cliff while I’m like this.”

“What about Jas, you selfish prick?” Erika hissed through her gritted teeth. “What’s she going to do? You’re the only father-figure she has! You think she won’t be affected by your choices?”

“Jas,” he mumbled. “Now I feel even worse…”

“You should! Do you know how she’ll feel if--” Erika bit her lip and ran the arm not occupied with Shane’s shoulder over her face, the flannel scratching her flesh and spreading saline and rain across it. “She’ll wonder,  _ Shane _ . She’ll wonder why. She’ll wonder what she could have done. She’ll wonder _ why she wasn’t enough to keep you around _ .” When he didn’t respond, she shook him harder, with both hands this time. “Please just help me get you home. You can even come to mine if you don’t want to deal with Marnie and Jas in the morning. Just get up,” she begged. 

When he began to stagger to his feet, using her smaller frame as a crutch, she stumbled before righting herself and wrapping her arms around him to keep him upright.

“...I think you should take me to the hospital,” he groaned into her hair.

“Yeah, you know I really agree with you.”

* * *

After Harvey spoke with her the following morning, she found herself back in Shane’s room at the clinic, sitting in the visitor’s chair by the bed. She hadn’t called Marnie yet, though she supposed she would need to do that soon. She sighed and leaned forward in her seat, burying her face in her palms, pushing against her eyes as they began to sting. The pressure in her chest making a comeback, along with the nausea that roiled within her stomach. 

She hated the smell of hospitals. Isopropyl alcohol and detergent and burnt coffee hung in the air, the beeping of various monitors and other equipment clogging the ears of everyone inside. 

And the faint, acrid scent of vomit and charcoal from a stomach being pumped. 

Erika came across it only one other time, but she’d recognize it in a heartbeat. The lump in her throat dissolved and she had to take a deep breath in the settle herself down. Harvey had said everything would be fine. Shane’s vitals all looked good and Harvey said he’d contact a therapist in the city. 

She leaned back again, drawing her knees up and hugging them, resting her head on her arms.

“You okay?” a voice rasped from the bed, and she jerked her head back up to look at Shane, sleepy-eyed and softened. 

“Do you know part of the reason I came here? To Stardew, I mean?” she asked instead. 

He furrowed his brows and shook his head as much as the oxygen mask allowed. 

“I inherited my grandpa’s farm, true, but I didn’t really plan on moving in. At least, I didn’t until I quit my job with Joja. I couldn’t handle it anymore.”

“I can’t exactly quit my job,” he pointed out, gruff--a return to normalcy, it seemed to her. 

“That isn’t what I’m getting at,” she replied. “I had gotten back from a leave of absence--bereavement, actually.” She averted her gaze to watch the heart monitor pulse in a steady rhythm, the green line going up and down and up and down and she continued. “My grandpa died about five years ago now, but afterward…” Her breath shook as it left her lungs. “The day my sister died was the worst day of my life.”

She didn’t see his reaction, nor did she care to--the words, like water spilling out of her mouth and drenching the air around them. 

“I found her, you know? We had plans that day. A girls’ day--spa, tea, shopping, nails--the whole cliche. Her husband had taken their daughter so she wouldn’t have to worry about needing to maneuver with her. I was actually a little disappointed because she’s so cute, but I know sis needed a break. 

“When I got there, I knocked, but she didn’t answer so I tried the doorknob and it was unlocked. I thought someone had broken in.” Erika chuckled before falling silent for a moment, but when she didn’t hear Shane make a sound to reply, she continued. “The ambulance ride was so fucking long. And I didn’t get cell reception in it or the hospital, so I had to leave every so often to try and get ahold of mom and dad, and her husband.

“I had no idea how sad she was. Even now, I keep going over all of our interactions, all of our visits with each other, and I wonder what I missed. What didn’t I see? What could I have done? Shane,” she said, turning to peer back at him, “I’ll  _ never  _ get those answers.” She looked away from him again. “I had a nervous breakdown at work.” Then, she let out a soft chuckle. “It was kind of funny, now, thinking back on it. A customer got all worked up over something, yelled, and I burst into tears on the phone. I think he felt bad because he kept apologising and telling me it wasn’t my fault and he was just frustrated. My supervisor had to take over the call, and later we discussed my options. She was quite kind about it; I almost feel bad for the way I quit, now.” 

She let out another sigh. “You’re such a fucking asshole, you know? Sorry if that’s harsh, but it’s true. I just wanted to be your friend after I moved here, you know? You were so rude. But you know what? I’d be so pissed at you if suddenly you weren’t there at the bar telling me to fuck off.”

She then peeked out the window, seeing the sun rising higher and higher. “I’m going to go call Marnie, and then I have to get back to the farm and check on Ser. Pounce-a-Lot and the other babies. Feel better soon,” she stated as she left the room.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


A loud knocking on her door roused Erika from her sleep, and she rolled over in her bed to check the time. 

6:00 am.

“My house better be on fire,” she grumbled, getting out of bed and throwing a robe over her nightgown, not bothering to tie it, and shoving her feet into her slippers before padding to the door. She’d need to get up soon anyway, but still.

Manners. 

She yawned before opening the door, stopping short at the sight of Shane on her porch. 

“Shane?” she questioned. “What an...unexpected surprise,” she finished.

He looked awful, if she were to be blunt. Dark bags under his eyes, his normal stubble appeared even more grown out than the day before, and it seemed he hadn’t changed his clothes since the last time she saw him, with the exception of the hospital garb she’d last seen him in and he kept his gaze trained on the ground.

“It’s six in the morning,” she pointed out.

He brought his eyes up to meet hers, but stopped short about half way up, and he looked visibly startled. Her eyes widened at what she realised he must have seen, and she wrapped the robe around herself, her face burning as she cleared her throat. “Uh, sorry,” she muttered. “I didn’t think.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, don’t worry about it. Doesn’t bother me--” he coughed, “--I mean, uh, they’re nice? I mean--”

A bark of laughter escaped her, her shoulders relaxing at his obvious discomfort and she shook her head. “Thanks,” she drawled, “I did grow them myself, you know.” She smiled at the chuckle he let out. “Now, if you’re done ogling my tits, what brings you to my little farmhouse at  _ six in the morning _ ?” she asked.

“I wasn’t  _ ogling _ ,” he insisted. He cleared his throat, averting his eyes once again. “I, uh, came to tell you that...I got into contact with that therapist that Harvey recommended. In the city.”

“I’m glad,” she told him. “I mean it. Even if you are a surly bastard,” she grinned at him. 

He scoffed, but the corners of his lips quirked anyway. “Yeah, I know. I’m--I guess I’m trying to say that I’m sorry.”

“For being surly?” she asked, eyebrow raised.

“I mean, yeah, sure, I was really rude to you and--I just don’t do well with new people.”

“I’ve been here going on three years, Shane.”

“It takes me a long time to warm up.”

“Obviously.”

“But,” he continued, his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, “that’s not really why I came here. I wanted to say that I’m so sorry. For the incident at the cliffs. I made a complete idiot out of myself--”

“No, you didn’t,” she interrupted. “You didn’t make an idiot of yourself. No one thinks that.”

“Still,” he pressed, “I’m sorry for what happened. I let it get out of hand and--and you shouldn’t have had to see me that way.”

She nodded. “You needed a serious wake-up call,” she told him. A flash of....something crossed his face and she reached out to grab his arm. “But,” she rushed, “I’m really happy you’re still here and that I was there when I was.”

His eyes softened and she felt her face warm once again. “I am too. I didn’t realise it was that bad.”

Erika shrugged, turning her face to look over his shoulder towards the forest. “Well, it was.”

Shane opened his mouth, but snapped it shut and made to leave, and Erika tightened her hold on his arm. “Uh, wait,” she insisted. “Do you want to come in? I have to get around now, anyway. I’ll put some coffee on and make you some breakfast.”

“You don’t have to go through all that--”

“What, you think I don’t normally have coffee and eat breakfast? Shut up and get inside. Besides,” she said, dragging him by his arm, “if anything, you can thank me by helping with some of my morning chores. I need a big, strong man to do some lifting for me, and since I lugged you to the hospital, I think it’s only fair for you to volunteer for that role. If you feel up to it, that is.” She turned around, then, and gave him a small wink and a smile, “But you’re a big, strong man, so you’re probably fine, right?”


	2. The One Where They Share a Drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane's two-heart event, on the docks.

Every time he turned around, that new farm girl popped up. On the street, at the saloon, even in the fucking JojaMart on occasion, though that last one was far less frequent, which was fine by him. 

But now here it was, eight on a Friday night, and he stood in “his” corner, nursing his fourth beer, and staring like a creep over the brim of his glass as she laughed at something Sam had said after he’d stopped by her on his way in. It looked like she’d planned on coming out tonight since she wasn’t wearing those awful black overalls and green flannel, and instead had a black plaid skirt on and oversized black sweater. He scoffed. It was like she had an obsession with plaid, if that ugly shirt she always wore gave any sort of indication.

And black. 

Her sweater kept slipping over her shoulder, exposing pale skin--and her bra strap?--and a jutting clavicle, and he felt the back of his neck prickle and turned his face to find Emily smiling at him, her gaze darting between him and the farm girl--Erika, he thought was her name.

Yoba, she annoyed him. 

Her laugh, her persistence in talking, the fact that Marnie would invite her over for dinner on occasion, her stupid hair.

Alright, even he thought that last one was weak at best. 

He didn’t get why she’d still come up to him. She wasn’t particularly outgoing, from what he’d noticed, and certainly not enough to keep putting herself in his path. She’d even stop him on his way to work to say hi and ask how he was.

_ “No, I don’t have time to talk to you. Don’t you have work to do on your little farm?” _

Each time he rebuffed her, her smile tightened and she’d nod--hair and baseball cap bobbing so fast he remained surprised the hat didn’t fly off--and respond with a clipped, “Well okay, have a nice day at work!” before spinning around and walking towards...he didn’t know, really. Maybe she did go back to her farm. Either way, she’d left him in peace and he could get through the next eight hours of hell, hopefully, uninterrupted. 

So lost he became in his thoughts as he continued to drain his drink, he started when a small hand pushed another towards him, and he was confronted with the most irritating presence in his world. 

“Here,” Erika said, smiling up at him. “I bought you another pint. You look like you need it.” 

Shane hesitated a moment before accepting the gift and mumbled, “yeah, okay, thanks, I guess.”

Erika rolled her eyes and huffed, “Was that really so hard? I’m just being nice, you know. Polite? Basic human decency?”

He slammed the drink back, draining about two thirds of the amber liquid before asking, “Why do you keep bothering me?” He scowled at her, and she looked down, colour dusting her cheeks and she kicked the ground with the toe of her boot, the tights she wore obscuring the flex of muscle in her thigh. 

“You just look kind of lonely over here,” she mumbled. 

“Fine, you’ve done your good deed for the night. You can leave now,” he snapped. 

She stamped her foot against the ground, the thud of it drowned out in the murmurs of the bar and the jukebox. “I’m just trying to be friendly! Why are you being like this?”

“I don’t need any more friends,” he told her, “and even if I did, I don’t need your charity.”

Shane could sense she was holding back from screaming, and he felt the buzz of alcohol cloud his brain enough that he thought her expression humourous. She could be kind of cute, he guessed; at least when she didn’t open her mouth. He could see why Sam and Sebastian went out of their way to include her on Fridays.

That thought hit his stomach wrong.

“What is your problem? Why are you so rude to me?”

“Don’t take it personally; it’s not just you,” he sneered.

She scowled and crossed her arms, the neckline of her sweater slipping even farther down her shoulder. “It must be a little personal; you barely look at me half the time.”

“If you think it’s personal, it’s because you’re fucking annoying and you’re always in my face. I can’t turn around without you being there! Here, at my job, at my  _ fucking house _ .”

He saw her take a step back and bite her lower lip. 

“It-it’s a small town--”

“Cut the shit; you go out of your way to bother me.”

Somewhat aware that their argument was attracting attention, he clamped his mouth shut, his jaw twitching with the force of it. She seemed to notice their onlookers, too, and she ducked her head down and he heard her sniffle, and she ran her forearm across her face. His scowl softened into a frown. Now, he’d meant everything he’d said, but--

his tone was perhaps harsher than he’d intended it to be. 

She spoke up, her voice small and thready. “I just--” she took a deep breath before continuing her thought, “you’re always by yourself whenever I see you, and you always look so  _ miserable _ ; I just wanted to be friendly. I’m new in town, and Marnie told me you weren’t a local either; we’re both from the city and I thought--I thought--” she cut herself off with another sniffle before turning her face back up to his, her eyes large and luminous in the dim light of the bar, a sheen over the blue irises, and the tip of her nose was reddened along with her lips. Before he could address any of what she said, she opened her mouth again.

“Why are you always so  _ mean _ to me? I’ve tried to think about what I might have done, but I can’t think of anything, but you’re still just so mean,” she accused, and she pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes, hiding, before she turned around and headed for the exit. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Shane saw Sam go after her and he grimaced. 

He went back to his beer and saw Emily frowning at him. 

“What?” he snapped.

She looked away from him and picked up a glass to polish. “You didn’t have to make her cry, you know,” she stated. “It can’t be easy starting over in a new place all by yourself. At least you have Marnie and Jas.”

He could almost feel the eyes of the remaining patrons on him, and the buzzing of their chatter caused his head to ache. The beer probably didn’t help the situation either, and he drained the rest of his drink, putting the glass back on the bar before he stormed out of the saloon, ignoring the looks some of the others gave him. 

The deserted street greeted him, and he sighed, running his fingers through his hair and noticing the grease that was beginning to build up. He’d need to wash it soon. But for now he needed to get home and, quietly, get into bed. It wouldn’t really do for either Marnie or Jas to see him in his current state. 

He made his way down the path that would lead him into the forest and on the way to Marnie’s ranch, when he heard two familiar voices, and realised he’d have to pass that kid’s house to get back home. And, just as he thought, he spotted both Sam and the farmgirl sitting on the front porch, Sam’s arm over her shoulders and he seemed to be speaking to her. 

Shane would either need to wait until she left and Sam went inside, or he’d have to suck it up and pass in front of them. No big deal, he thought, he’d just ignore them. Nothing new. He doubted either of them would acknowledge him, anyway. 

As he neared them, he could hear Erika still sniffling and a muted, “sorry, I’m not usually a crier--” before clamming up when he became more visible. However, she didn’t say a word but appeared to ensure her attention was on Sam and Sam only. The blond seemed to pick up on this and just told her it was ok, that Shane was like that to  _ everyone _ and to not worry about his bad attitude; that he was a surly drunk and it didn’t mean anything.

Shane snorted and stumbled past the house, the beer catching up to him now that his blood was moving after sitting stagnant for so long. 

  
  
  


He couldn’t sleep. 

He’d been in bed for three hours and, despite the warm hum of alcohol in his body, he couldn’t drift off no matter how hard he tried. His stomach roiled with nausea not just caused by the beer he’d ingested that evening, and, at last, he rolled out of bed, shoved his feet into his sneakers and shrugged his hoodie on before heading to the kitchen and pulling a six-pack out of the refrigerator. 

  
  


Shane found himself at the dock, his legs hanging over the ledge as he cracked his second beer open on the edge. The chirping of crickets and the water lapping against the banks echoed in the forest and he let himself take in a deep breath before letting it go and closing his eyes, the cool air of early autumn still just warm enough to be comfortable. The tightness in his chest dissolving a bit, and then he heard a twig snap some small distance behind him, drawing him out of his own thoughts, and he turned around to see the little farm girl standing nearby, still just on the grass, but close nonetheless. 

Her eyes were wide and her lips parted and closed several times as she took a step back, then mumbled an, “I’m sorry,” and turned as if to leave.

“Up late?” he asked.

He must have surprised her because she started, but still nodded. “Yeah,” she murmured. “I have a hard time sleeping, sometimes. I didn’t mean to interrupt; I didn’t know it was you until it was too late.”

Ouch. But he supposed he had that coming. 

Shane stretched his arm out and patted the spot next to him. “Have a seat,” he offered. 

After a moment, she took the remaining steps forward and settled down next to him. Silence stretched between the two for several long moments, Shane taking deep swigs of beer and Erika shooting him a glance every so often. When he drained his bottle, he grabbed another two out of the pack and offered the second one to her. 

Erika took the offered beverage, and then gave it back. At his raised brow, she said, “I, er, don’t have anything to open it with,” she muttered, and he could see her cheeks glowing even in the dim moonlight. 

He felt his lips twitch at the corners and he brought the bottleneck to the corner of the wooden plank and popped the lid off, giving the beer back to her. He opened his own and drank deeply while she held on to her bottle, staring at its place in her lap. Again, the quiet hung around them until he let out a sigh. “Life,” he said, taking another drink, and he saw her nod out of the corner of his eye. 

Shane turned his gaze back over the lake, watching the silver and gold light reflect off of the water’s surface.

“You ever feel like…” he trailed off, listening to her shift beside him, and he could make out the faint fragrance of grass, and he thought he noticed perfume, something sweet and feminine; something she must have worn for her night at the saloon, lingering around her. 

It suited her, and he found he didn’t mind it. It would probably end up clinging to his sweatshirt. 

“You ever feel like no matter what you do, you’re going to fail?” he asked, voicing his thoughts to the night. He let another deep breath out, “Like you’re stuck in some miserable abyss and you’re so deep you can’t even see the light of day?”

She didn’t say anything.

“I just feel like no matter how hard I try I’m not strong enough to climb out of that hole,” he confessed, though her silence began to grate on his nerves. In his periphery, however, he saw her bring the beer to her mouth and throw her head back, draining half the bottle in one go. “Fast drinker, huh?” he asked and then he let out a chuckle. “Girl after my own heart.” He saw her flush and sway for a moment, and he wondered if he’d have to see her home. “Don’t make a habit out of it, though. You’ve got a future ahead of you still.” 

Then, she laid her head on his shoulder. 

He still had the presence of mind to not jump so she wouldn’t tumble right into the water. 

“You okay?” he asked, the gentle weight of her head against him warming his shoulder. 

He felt her nod. “Can’t help it,” she said, then giggled. “I’m a cheap date. Always have been.” She giggled again.

“I wasn’t aware this was a date, but I haven’t been on one in so long it’s not surprising that I couldn’t tell,” he joked.

“That’s a shame,” she said, and her arm hooked around his and he felt her burrow her head further into the crook of his neck and shoulder. 

“Oh, so you’re a friendly drunk,” he said. 

Erika hummed and tightened her hold on him, her even breaths lulling his alcohol soaked brain into a state of drowsiness. 

“So, why is it a shame, then?” he questioned, and she furrowed her brows for a second before lifting her head back up to look at him.

“Oh! Right,” she laughed. “I just think…I think you deserve to do something fun.” She took another swig, finishing the bottle. “I’ll be your date any time, if you want.”

He wanted to scoff at her now, even as he opened another bottle and handed it to her, watching her take another long drink. He was supposed to believe that she who was all sweet and friendly--and beautiful--and young and could probably have any number of other guys who lived in town, would settle for a fat, drunk,  _ bitter _ piece of trash like him. 

Shane felt his hackles rise, but she settled against him again.

“And what makes you say that?” he questioned, deciding to play along. 

Erika sighed. “It’s your eyes. I like your eyes, even if they’re sad eyes. They’re what made me want to talk to you in the first place,” she admitted.

“My eyes, eh?” he humoured her, and felt her nod. 

“You have nice eyes,” she told him and took two more deep draughts and placed her second empty bottle with the first. “I feel good,” she said, then laughed a bit. “Sorry,” she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice, “I told you I was a cheap date. Don’t have to spend much on me, do you?”

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “No, I don’t suppose I would,” he agreed. She was so annoying, so  _ close _ , and her hair tickled his jaw, getting stuck in the stubble there and he felt a shiver go down his spine. 

He turned his face to look down at her only to find her staring back at him.

“Why are you always so mean to me, Shane?”

He hadn’t expected that, not now at least. The knot that had been in his stomach since earlier that evening grew leaden, weighing him down. “I shouldn’t have acted like that. I don’t take back being annoyed,” he said, “but…I didn’t have to go about it the way I did. I didn’t mean for you to cry.”

“I’m not usually much of a crier,” she said, then glanced away again. “I’m sorry, too. You said you didn’t want to talk to me and I kept pushing. I just--” she bit her lip and wrapped her arms around herself, leaving his side cold and empty. “I’m lonely, too,” she confessed. 

He snorted, “You have a ton of friends in town; everyone likes you.”

“But they don’t get it,” she whined. “None of them do. But...but you do.”

“Get what?”

“Being stuck inside your own head. I left the city for some peace but it’s so goddamn quiet and there’s nothing to--to drown out my own thoughts.”

He watched her, face tilted away from him, watched the moonbeams highlight her dark hair and glitter in her eyes. Her rosy cheeks still bright and glowing, and the thin shirt she wore clinging to her small shoulders as they shook. 

Shane feared she might cry again, but she surprised him and did not. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, facing him again, head tilted and she appeared as though she might be pouting. 

“Like what?” he murmured, his eyes heavy from alcohol blood and he felt a surge that twisted in his guts and in his chest, and before he could think better of it he brushed a strand of hair away from her forehead. 

She tilted her face up to him. “Do you want to kiss me?” she asked, her voice quiet and lilting. 

He did.

She infuriated him. She was everywhere and she kept trying to talk to him and be friendly and he  _ just didn’t understand why _ . He was rude and when he’d had a few--a far more frequent occurrence, lately--had a mean streak a mile wide, and he was old and out-of-shape, with no prospects for a decent future and a job stocking shelves at fucking JojaMart and then would drink himself into oblivion once he got off the clock. 

He did want to kiss her. He wanted more than that, wanted to feel her against him, to feel her slight frame moulding into his own--

Small hands pressed against his chest and his attention snapped back to her, her mouth parted and lips red, flushed, the alcohol flowing through her bloodstream. 

“I’d like if you wanted to kiss me,” she told him. “You can, if you want.”

And he probably could, he realised. They could go back to her little farm house until he’d had his fill of her, and she’d probably ask him to stay and he’d want to, he’d be so tempted to--

“We should get you back home, farm girl,” he said. “You’ll catch your death out here and I’m not going to let everyone blame me for their favourite farmer dying of exposure.”

An expression flitted across her face, but she nodded. “I’m pretty sure I can manage fine on my own,” she said. “I’m not that drunk.” But even as she said the words and tried to get to her feet, stumbled and nearly lost her balance a couple times, and Shane had to use all of his practise of drunken grace to keep her upright. 

“Right,” he teased. “You’re not that drunk.” He gazed at her for a long moment, until she ducked her head and broke the contact. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your house. We can’t have you falling into the river or a pond or something.”

  
  
  


When she was inside, safe and sound, and the door clicked shut behind her, Shane leaned against it and let out the long breath that had been pushing against his chest and straining his lungs, choking him, and he rested for several minutes, thinking about what she might be doing, before he shook his head to dispel those images. He’d go back home, pass out, and this would just be some sort of alcohol-induced hallucination.


	3. The One Where They Whisper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam, my good boy, and his 10 heart event.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, look at me, not writing WKaB. I'm sorry Elder Scrolls people. I need the wholesome right now.

_ “Erika, _

_ meet me in front of my house, after dark. i need to talk to you. in private. _

_ -Sam” _

Like that wasn’t cryptic. 

Erika folded the note back up and set it down on her table. She still needed to bring Marnie a cave carrot for her goats and tend to the parsnips and strawberries she tried to keep alive. 

At least she had a knack for making preserves from berries she collected, and Leah showed her how to tap trees for their sap. 

She frowned at the letter glaring up at her and let out a sigh. He should have just come out and said whatever he wanted to say in the letter. Now her stomach would be knotted all day and there were plenty of errands she had to run in town after dealing with the farm. 

She wondered if Sam was alright. The unusual tone of his message putting her on edge, and she could already feel her chest constrict as she mulled over the contents of his letter. She’d thought things were well between them; they’d become good friends in the year she’d been here, and she’d been so happy for him when his band played their first gig in the city. She’d even brought a bouquet for him, thinking back on her own recitals as a teen and her father would have flowers waiting for her afterward. 

Did it even have to do with her at all? Jodi would have mentioned if something happened with Kent when they met for tea yesterday with Caroline, and she saw Vincent and Jas playing together then, too. 

“Damn it,” she muttered, grabbing her watering can and stomping into the early spring morning. 

Damp earth perfumed the air around her and steam floated up from the ground as the sunlight warmed the dew that clung to the leaves and vines and blades of grass, and she took in a deep breath, letting the scent fill her and settle her. 

This was why she’d moved here, she reminded herself. 

  
  
  
  


“Jodi!” Erika called out upon seeing her in the town square. The older woman started, but smiled when she saw the girl and waved her over. 

“What a pleasant surprise!” Jodi laughed. “Is everything alright?”

When Erika stopped in front of her, she said, “I actually wanted to ask you that.” At Jodi’s raised eyebrows, she continued, “I was just…wondering how everything’s been? You know, just, making sure y’all are okay.”

“Oh, well, yes we’re doing great! Thanks for asking.” She let out another giggle. “I just saw you yesterday, though.”

Erika kicked the ground in front of her and wrung her wrists. “A lot can change in a day,

but yeah. I guess it was kind of silly,” she admitted. 

“No, it’s sweet,” Jodi said, patting Erika’s shoulder. Then, Jodi’s smile dropped off and her forehead furrowed. “You’re a very sweet girl, Erika. You’ve been a lovely addition to our community.”

Erika blushed, and she could feel the tips of her ears glowing. “Oh, well,” she stammered, “uh, thank you. Honestly, if anyone deserves credit it’s really Marnie,” she laughed. “I’d’ve died this last year otherwise,” she joked. 

“Do you think you’ll stay?”

Erika frowned and tilted her head. “Sorry?”

“Do you think you’ll stay? In the valley. Long-term, I mean. You’re young; I’m sure you

must miss the city.”

“Oh! I mean, I suppose I do, a bit. But, er, no. I mean, I don’t have any immediate plans to move. It’s...it’s nice here. And I’ve made quite a few friends here. It’d be hard for me to leave.”

“Aw,” Jodi cooed. “I’m glad to hear that. I know you’ve gotten close to my Sam. You’re both so cute.”

“Cute?” Erika asked, frowning. 

“When you all go out with Sebastian and Abigail.” Jodi smiled and put her hand up to her mouth. “I just love seeing you all together.”

“Oh,” was all Erika could say. Jodi was a lovely woman, but Erika rarely knew what went through her head. “But,” she continued, “everything’s okay?”

“Of course it is. You’re sweet to ask.” Jodi glanced down at her wrist and widened her eyes. “I can’t believe it’s already ten o’clock! I need to get some grocery shopping done for dinner tonight.”

“Take care!” Erika yelled after her as she dashed towards the direction of JojaMart--she wrinkled her nose at the thought of it. She also thought Jodi might benefit from a vacation every now and then--even though Erika helped out where she could and snapped an occasional “Sam help your mom!” at him. She shrugged and walked to Pierre’s and, with a sigh when her eyes landed on the sign, realised it was a Wednesday and the little shop was closed. 

A whole year in Pelican Town and she still couldn’t remember that. 

Erika rubbed her forehead; she did need to do some shopping since she’d promised Jodi she’d bake Kent’s birthday cake, and she was already in town.

But she  _ hated _ JojaMart. 

Not least because she hated the company on principle, but she hated that skeezy old man Morris and the way he spoke to her. The first time she’d gone in there--another Wednesday--he’d tried to sell her a goddamn membership to that hellhole and after she refused and walked past him, she glanced back to see him looking at her ass. 

Plus the supermarket always maintained a frigid temperature. 

She groaned, trudging her way up the street, wrapping her flannel shirt even tighter around herself. 

She should have worn sweats. Her ugly ones. 

* * *

As Erika suspected, the air-conditioning ran on full-blast when she stepped inside the sterile building. The fluorescent light bounced off the shiny, white tiles and caused her to blink several times, her eyes adjusting to the change in ambiance. Morris glanced up and smiled at her as she walked inside. 

“Ah, welcome Ms.--”

“I just need the sugar and eggs, thanks,” she mumbled, striding past the man and keeping her head down. 

She glanced up at the signs for each aisle before spotting the baking section. Shane, as he stocked the shelves, looked up and she smiled at him.

“Hi Shane!” she greeted, walking up to him. “How are you today?”

He just huffed and went back to the bags of flour in front of him and Erika glared.

“Well,” she mumbled, “I suppose I’ll just go fuck myself, then.” The sugar sat right next to him, however, and she reached around him, bumping against him with her shoulder, and she smirked up at him. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, pulling the bag of sugar out of its place and bumping against him, again, “I’m so clumsy sometimes. It usually happens with rude people; it throws off my equilibrium.”

“What do you want?” he snapped, and she took a step back from him. 

“I just--I just wanted to say hi and see how you were. I didn’t see you at Marnie’s the other night for dinner and--”

“And you just thought you’d bother me at work?” he sneered, turning his attention back to the shelves. 

Erika winced and cradled the sugar close to her chest. “Sorry for giving a damn,” she muttered. “I just--” she sighed, shaking her head. “You know what? Never mind,” she bit out. “You’re so hot and cold all the time!” she hissed, peeking over at the front of the store, relaxing when she saw Morris speaking with another customer. “One minute I think we’re getting along and the next you look at me like I’m just some--some insect you stepped on,” she rushed, feeling herself grow hot as her eyes burned, and she sensed a sniffle coming on. 

Instead of maintaining her gaze, she spun around, her ponytail whipping around, causing a few errant strands of hair to sting her face. She didn’t feel like waiting for him to tell her to fuck off, again, so she headed to the check-out line, spotting Jodi still shopping in the produce section--she wondered if she should go say again--and a few other milling about. 

She placed the sugar on the conveyor belt and then grumbled as she pressed the heel of her palm against her forehead. 

“I forgot the eggs.” 

Erika gave a small smile to the cashier. “Sorry, hang on a moment, I just need to grab one other thing,” she called over her shoulder as she ran towards the dairy and egg caselines. 

While she searched for the “best” dozen eggs, she spied Sam out of the corner of her eye mopping the floor in front of the dairy coolers. He looked up and smiled at her, mouthing a “hi” and she returned with a little wave of her own. 

At least someone was happy to see her. 

She wanted to ask about the note he’d left her now but…

He was working. And he  _ did _ say he wanted to speak in private. 

She huffed to herself and mouthed “bye” to him before taking her place back at the checkout stand. 

  
  


* * *

So, Erika hadn’t gotten anything else done. She was allowed to take a little time for herself, she reasoned, sitting on the edge of her porch, scratching behind Ser Pounce-a-Lot’s ears and watching the sun rest against the horizon. The warmth of the day dissipated as the sun made its retreat, and she felt the chill begin to settle in her bones, even through the sweater she’d put on before she left the cozy atmosphere of her home. 

She inhaled, woodsmoke from her chimney hanging in the air and she shivered, but let out a gentle smile. She supposed she was fortunate her grandfather did decide to leave her with the farm. Some of her cousins threw a fit over it, but there was little they could do besides whine and complain about it until her dad told them to knock it off, that they’d gotten their own inheritance and that the time wasn’t appropriate for them to act the way they had. 

Besides, she thought, out of all of the grandchildren, she’d been closest to the man since he’d moved in with her family in his later years, after the death of her grandmother. Thinking of the both of them gave her a headache, ad she blinked a few times to dispel the haze that fell over the view of the farm. Her farm. Bought with loss and tears. 

  
  


Her stomach lurched as the sky grew darker. She hated surprises, and Sam knew that. She couldn’t do cryptic. Not usually. She had half a mind to just not show up, make Sam come to her and tell her what was on his mind. 

Though, he seemed to be his normal self at JojaMart. She overthought everything, anyway. At least, most of the time. The farm made it easy to do, with its tranquility and slow-pace, the sound of birdsong and crickets in the air and nothing else except for the faint lowing of Marnie’s cows that echoed in the forest. 

Erika pulled her phone out. Nine o’clock, it read, the sun now gone and stars twinkling above her in the vast darkness that stretched overhead. Something about the cold made the stars brighter, more clear, she mused as they glittered across the sky’s inky surface. 

There were so many of them here. 

With one last scratch of Ser Pounce-a-Lot’s ears, she heaved herself off of the porch, wrapping her arms around herself and wandered down the path into Cindersap Forest, starlight the only thing illuminating her way. 

  
  
  
  
  


“You came,” Sam breathed as she stopped in front of his house. “I’m glad,” he admitted. “I wanted to speak to you in private.” The cold had soaked through her sweater, and she nodded, noticing the flush from the now-frigid evening blooming on his face and the way his blond hair shone under the dim lamplight from his home’s front door. 

She shivered.

He must have noticed, because the next words that came out of his mouth were, “Let’s get inside. It’s really cold tonight; we’ll have to sneak you into my room.”

Erika almost laughed. Sam was approaching his mid-twenties and still had to worry about his mother and father finding him “breaking curfew.” He really needed to move out. But in a way it was charming; she’d moved out at eighteen, even before her sister, eager to be on her own and away from her parents’ rules. Nothing had happened, nothing dramatic, but she was stubborn and wanted to live her own life. 

She allowed herself to be led by Sam around the side of the house to the window of his bedroom, which she found already opened.

“I feel like I’m fourteen again, sneaking back into my parents’ after staying out all night,” she whispered, holding back her giggles. 

“Well, weren’t  _ you  _ the juvenile delinquent?” he teased.

Once they were inside, she rubbed her arms with her hands, the feeling rushing back into her stiff fingers, she waited for him to say something, but all he did was fidget and look around his room, his eyes landing everywhere but on her. 

She tapped her foot and huffed. “Sam,” she started, “what did you want to talk about. That we had to talk about  _ now _ at--” she looked down at her phone, “--ten o’clock? In the cold.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he murmured. “Look,” he continued, still looking away, still flushing, “I know I’ve been talking about nothing but the band for awhile now--”

“It’s important to you,” she pointed out.

He nodded. “Yeah, it is. But I don’t want you to think that’s the only thing I’m interested in.”

She furrowed her brows, tilting her head to the side. “What do you mean?” she questioned. 

He stepped closer to her. “I mean, I’m really happy we’ve grown so close,” he admitted and let out a small chuckle and fell silent for several moments, the quiet unnerving her though she refrained from saying anything. He fidgeted even more and she couldn’t stand the situation anymore.

“Sam,” she said, “you’re kind of scaring me. Is everything okay? Are you okay? Like, you’re not dying or anything, right?”

“What? No,” he laughed, then smothered the sound, glancing at the bedroom door. “Nothing like that. I just need to know--er,” he took in a shaky breath before letting it out through his nose, “Erika, do you think of me as a friend?”

She frowned, his words still not making any sense, and she tried, “I mean, we  _ are _ friends, aren’t we? I consider you one of my best friends,” she told him. 

His face fell and she reached out to touch his shoulder. “No,” he said, “I mean...do you think of me as  _ just _ a friend?”

Erika’s eyes widened a fraction, but before she could utter anything, a sharp rap sounded from the door. 

“Sam?” she heard Jodi’s voice from the other side, and Erika almost snorted when Sam jumped. 

“Quick,” he exclaimed, his voice a sharp whisper and she had to bite her lip the smother the snickers threatening to escape, “hide in my bed,” he insisted, pushing her towards the unmade mess and had her get in, boots and all--and she cringed feeling the sheets catch on the rubber soles--and she pulled the covers over her head, pressing her hands against her mouth. 

“I’m coming in, okay?” Jodi said, and the click of the door told her Jodi must have made her way in already. 

Erika hoped her shoulders weren’t shaking too bad that it could be seen from under the quilt. 

“What’s wrong, honey?” Erika heard Jodi ask. “Were you doing something...bad?”

Erika had to pinch herself as she almost lost her composure. 

“I thought I heard weird noises coming from your room--”

“Mom, no!” and Erika was sure she’d piss herself at how flustered he sounded. She was absolutely going to give him grief over this interaction. “I was...just doing push-ups.” 

Erika rolled her eyes.

“I wanna beat Dad at arm-wrestling someday,” he forced out around a laugh.

“Oh,” Jodie giggled, “that explains why you’re all red and sweaty. Okay,” she chirped, “good luck! I’m heading to bed now; I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Mom,” and Erika wanted to let out an “awww” but, through what could only be the power of Yoba, kept herself quiet. 

She heard the door close and waited until Sam pulled the covers down. She reached down to take her boots off and looked up at Sam, her laugh surfacing at his relieved appearance as she laid back against his pillow. 

“That was really close,” he said. Sam bit his lip. “Erika?” 

She tilted her head, smiling at him. “Yes?” she asked, still in her spot, still reclined, and she saw a grin creep over his face. 

He slid in next to her, and she let herself breathe in the sunshine that lingered with him, in his skin, his hair, her body warming as he pressed his lips to hers. She felt him sigh against her mouth and bring his hand up to cradle her cheek, his thumb stroking the side of her face before he pulled back. “I always knew there was something special between us,” he murmured, not taking his hand from her face, and she nuzzled his palm. 

“Oh yeah?” she asked.

He leaned in to kiss her again, rolling on top of her, feeling his hands begin to roam over her before sliding up her sweater, stopping short just under her breasts. “Is this okay?” he asked, his gaze soft and face glowing while he trailed his fingers along the edge of her bra.

“Yeah,” she whispered, and she pulled him back down onto her.

  
  
  
  
  


Later, they laid wrapped around each other, sweaty and exhausted, their flesh pressed together and their hair sticking to their necks, kissing softly as Sam continued to caress Erika’s face. 

“I’m going to be thinking about this night for a long time,” he murmured into her hair. “You’re so beautiful,” he told her.

Her throat filled with all the things she wanted to tell him, wanted to get out, but the only words that came out were“So are you.” 

And, for now, that was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I did my best to edit but sometimes my mistakes leak through.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is me, dipping my toes into the Stardew Valley fandom when I normally write for Elder Scrolls. Updates on this will, unfortunately, be more sporadic since I'm currently writing another novel-length TES piece. But I wanted to have some fun with these characters since I've now become obsessed with the game.


End file.
